


You're Crazy

by jaysus_christ



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Danganronpav3, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Sad Ending, Schizophrenia, danganronpa - Freeform, killingharmony, ouma is the main focus but everyone else has a line or two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10067108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaysus_christ/pseuds/jaysus_christ
Summary: "I am Ouma Kokichi, a supreme leader, a Lord to be! I am not...insane. I am NOT!"Just a one shot with schizophrenic OumaDisclaimer: I do not own any characters in this one shot. Also, trigger warning? I guess?





	

"You can't do this!" Ouma exclaimed, his voice wearing a concerning amount of fear. He clenched a hand around his expensive white jacket and felt his breathing quicken as the conversation proceeded. "I am Ouma Kokichi, a supreme leader, a Lord to be! I am not...insane. I am NOT!" It wasn't his intention to yell the last part, but the situation was simply too bizarre for the purple-eyed boy to comprehend. A scenario he had never thought he should face when he woke up this morning.  
"Ouma, please!" came a weak call and the juvenile youth turned his head. His angry eyes soften in consideration when his orbs met those of equally purple, but overflowing with miserable tears.  
Ouma felt a pang when he heard his mother starting to weep in her chair, clumsily patting her eyes with a silken handkerchief. He glanced toward her, hoping to tell her with his eyes that he was not crazy. She didn't seem to read him. His father swiftly walked to her side and put a hand on her shoulder, only adding fuel to the fire as she broke down entirely and hid her head in her hands.  
The elderly man sitting in the front of Ouma in the dining room folded his hands professionally in his lap. He closed his eyes and took off his glasses before he spoke again. Ouma's friends and himself used to call him 'the Crazy Collector' but now it seemed that Ouma was one of the crazies he was collecting.  
"We got several reports about your uncommon behaviour and I have come to bring you with me," he said in a calm voice and Ouma's eyes left his mother to glare daggers at the man.  
"Your reports are misinterpreting," he stated fearlessly.  
"The situation pains me Ouma, you seem like an intelligent child."  
"Lord Ouma."  
"Not yet, am I correct?"  
Ouma's eyes hardened, but then his father's hand fell on his shoulder and instead they twisted in sadness, dropping to the floor.  
"Ouma," his father's stern voice sounded. "Don't disgrace your family any further. Just go." The words hurt unbearably. Everybody thought he was a loony. Even his own family.  
"Has this come out yet?" his mother's choked-up voice sounded.  
"I don't believe so," his father responded slowly.  
"It will be a scandal! We'll be the laughing matter of the whole town!"  
"I am not insane!" Ouma repeated for what seemed to be the millionth time. "Why won't you understand?" His mother sobbed loudly at this.  
He looked at his family with bewildered eyes, but he didn't resist when the Collector placed a rough hand on his shoulder and pulled him out of his chair. It might be the last time he would sit in a chair like that, sown with golden treads of real gold in red silk. The thought pained him.  
"You aren't being executed Ouma," the Collector told him with a firm pat on his shoulder, but Ouma only sent him a glare in response. He jumped slightly when he heard his mother's hysteria start again, but the Collector held his shoulder tight. "You're just going to go to a place that can help you. If you get better you might be back before you know you left." With those words the Collector pulled him toward the exit.  
"Mother!" Ouma yelled, not even regarding his words, his eyes pinned to his mother's crying form, curled into his father's arms. "Mother!" he tried to squirm out of the man's hand, but despise being very bony and old, the Collector was incredibly strong.  
"You will just earn more time like this, Ouma," the Collector said cold-heartedly, but a slight smile played on his lips as he did. Ouma gritted his teeth and the door closed behind them as they walked out in the courtyard. His head fell forward and his hands clenched in fists by his sides.  
Ouma Kokichi was the son of a great lord, living in a wonderful country. He had pride and dignity. Even if his pride seemed in pieces at this point he wouldn't break under the pressure. He wouldn't let out a single tear in public even if it would kill him.  
"Ouma, it will all be better if you believe in it," a firm voice sounded. The supreme leader's eyes lifted immediately, showing an expression of pure misery as his purple orbs met lilac ones.  
"How do you know?" he asked the creature floating in front of his face. The tiny fairy girl smiled at him, and her small form floated to sit on the shoulder that wasn't held by the Collector. Ouma smiled slightly at her as she sat.  
"Have I ever lied to you, Ouma?" she asked him and put a teeny hand on his cheek. "Me and the others will always stay by your side in times like this, so don't be afraid."  
"I am not afraid, Kaede-" Ouma told her. "I am just-"  
That's when he realized that the Collectors eyes were staring directly at him, a slight smile playing on his lips.  
But in contradiction Ouma's smile disappeared and a look of pure anger showed instead. "I am not—"  
"Insane." The Collector ended his sentence and smiled maliciously. Ouma realized they had walked all the way to the road already and in front of him was the old wagon that he had seen around town so many times. Pitch black as night. The perfect image of what Death himself would be honoured to ride in Ouma's opinion.  
But what was worse...  
"Please," Ouma whispered breathlessly and stopped abruptly, almost falling on his face when the Collector pulled him along regardless. "Let me wear a hood, scarf, anything. I beg you." The young boy begged and let his fingers hold onto the Collectors arms to halt his swift walk.  
People were gathering around the wagon to see whom the Crazy Collector was bringing with him this time. He couldn't see them yet, but he heard them clearly, coming down the street. Chatting happily as if they were about to see a great show. Ouma knew that he had used to be in that crowd, standing with his friends and wearing a smug smile as the crazy people were let into the wagon, often under screams and cries of help. They had made him laugh. He didn't laugh now.  
"A hood?" the Collector laughed and pulled him harder. "Sorry child."  
"B-but..." Ouma stuttered in despair, but when the crowd had approached fully he hurried to stumble to his feet. Loud murmurs and gasps were heard when Ouma approached. His proud back straightened immediately and his face twisted to expressionlessness, although he felt like he was breaking inside.  
"Is that Lord Kokichi's son?" he heard being said in hushed voices.  
"He was such a bright child."  
"What a disgrace for the good family."  
Ouma felt embarrassed, broken and hated. His eyes unwillingly twisted in sadness and the murmurs rose in volume. Tears had never threatened to spill as much as now. Not of sadness, but embarrassment.  
"Ouma!" someone called, and his eyes moved to the voice as in a daze. It was one of his old friends, he seemed to have run here, probably to see the show, because his green hair was a mess and his green eyes wild with surprise as he elbowed through the crowd.  
"Amami, please go home," he said and was surprised how broken his voice sounded. The tall boy stood absolutely petrified when he had pushed through the crowd completely and just stared at the scenario that the two friends often had laughed at.  
"What's happening? Who is the poor bastard today?" another voice broke in and Ouma winced as Kaito, his greatest rival in power moved to Amami's side. Kaito's eyes went from amused to absolutely stunned in second, when he approached the happening. "What in the world."  
Ouma almost choked. Almost.  
Amami's fists clenched and his green eyes seemed filled with benevolence. Ouma hissed out a breath and turned away from them in shame. He was usually in charge of Amami and as powerful as the Kaito, seeing him like this was just...wrong.  
"Please enter," the Collector mumbled as if bored by it all and opened the door for him.  
Ouma stared inside the wagon. Everything was black in there too, just as expected. Without looking back he stepped inside. He held his proud face flat as he sat in there, closing his eyes to kill the noise around him. Only two voices he couldn't keep out.  
"Ouma!' he heard his friends cry out, just before the door was slammed shut and cutting the volume to half the magnitude. He didn't look at them. He couldn't.  
BAM!  
His eyes flung to the window in shock. "Ouma!" Amami banged his fists on the glass. Ouma's eyes were wide in surprise, but soon twisted into wretchedness. Soon he noticed Kaito behind him. Their voices were faint because of the glass barrier between them, but Ouma could make out the astronaut's words clearly.  
"You will come back, you hear me Ouma!" Kaito called.  
"We're waiting for you, right here! For when you come back!" Amami called, as the car began to roll out on the street. As it did Ouma's hands flung to the window, briefly placed over his friend's with only the glass separating them. His friend's immediately started running beside the wagon their eyes wide.  
"I'll return," Ouma whispered. He wasn't sure if they heard him or not, but it was a promise. His friend's sent him faint smiles as they stumbled to a stop on the road. They clumsily staggered out of the road under loud swears from the vehicles they ran out in front. Ouma would probably have laughed if the situation had been different, but not even a smile reached his lips today and he just let his hand's rest on the cool glass, not moving before he couldn't see his two friends anymore.  
He hadn't realized that tears were flowing down his cheeks and hurried to dry them off with his sleeve. He leaned back in his seat, and was actually glad that the wagon was so dark and black, because it made it easier to curl up in a corner and hide from the curious glances from the outside.  
"Ouma," he heard the faint voices again. This time there were many, almost all of the creatures he had ever met. All in the wagon with him. They always came in his insecure moments when he needed company the most, and he thankfully listened to all their reassuring words, just curling up in the wagon.  
The trip was too short. He wished he could have sat and listened to his friends for a while longer, but unfortunately the door soon opened and the Collector stood outside with an impatient expression.  
"Move it Ouma," he said, not in a harsh tone, but Ouma still felt the improper speech like a stab in the back.  
"It's okay, we're all in this together," his best friend, a floating rabbit called monomi told him. He swallowed and gave her a quick nod before walking out of the wagon, declining the Collectors offered hand.  
"Welcome to your new home," the Collector told him and Ouma's eyes twisted in disdain.  
"The loony Bin."  
"It's refereed like that from some," the Collector said with a shrug and pulled Ouma along by the shoulder again. The purple-haired boy clumsily stumbled after him, his eyes pinned to the big building in front of him, where he likely would spend a lot of time from now on.  
"How long do I have to stay?" Ouma asked in a low, but controlled voice.  
"Depends."  
"Can I have visitors?"  
"Depends."  
"Depends? Not even my family?" Ouma glared at the man. Would he really not get to see his family if he didn't behave in this place? His teeth gritted in anger, but he kept it hidden.  
"You have family?"  
"Wha-?" the question surprised him so much that he forgot to look stoic. "What kind of question is that?" the boy demanded to know. "You saw them just a little while ago! My mother who cried, my father who comforted her. Just before we went outside to the crowd!"  
The Collector eyed Ouma expressionlessly. "Ouma. There were no other people than us in that worn old building and... there were no people."  
Ouma stared at him. "No people?" His eyes widened to double size and he opened and closed his mouth several times without finding the right words, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.  
"Y-you mean..."  
"There was no one there," the Collector told him, his voice softened slightly. Ouma glared at the ground, his pupils flickering slightly in shock by the information. He had always known that the fairies and bunnies were in his mind, but...his family, his house and his friends?  
"T-that is rubbish! That is...complete bollocks!" He sputtered and his eyes kept flickering.  
The Collector's hand tightened around the petrified teen's shoulder and pulled him along. "Come on kid."  
"They can't be in my mind! Why would you..." Ouma stared at the Collector, but was too stunned to resist his hold and just staggered after him.  
If what he said was true, how much had the boy been imagining? Were any of the people he knew real? Maybe there was no one waiting for him at all. Maybe he was nothing in reality. No lord. No friend. No nothing.  
"You will come back, you hear me Ouma?"  
"We're waiting for you, right here! For when you come back."  
That's when the proud teen's composure fell and he collapsed in tears.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to this website so idk what I'm doing haha. please comment what you thought! :)


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